


If It Doesn’t Wake You, What Will?

by Hexatrace



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: A small boy doesn’t sleep, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 22:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexatrace/pseuds/Hexatrace
Summary: Hey! This is my first time writing a fic for this fandom, and my first post on ao3! I have a bit of a story in mind of this, lemme know if you wanna see more of it in the comments.Did I read this before posting it? Absolutely not. Also let me know if this format sucks to look at, I did this in ao3 and it looks kinda wonky on my tablet
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 56





	If It Doesn’t Wake You, What Will?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first time writing a fic for this fandom, and my first post on ao3! I have a bit of a story in mind of this, lemme know if you wanna see more of it in the comments.  
Did I read this before posting it? Absolutely not. Also let me know if this format sucks to look at, I did this in ao3 and it looks kinda wonky on my tablet

He hadn’t slept at all the previous night. He had spent hours on his phone, scrollingthrough tumblr, looking at art and dumb posts that he quickly forgot about in his sleep deprived state.

He assumed he was going to repeat the process tonight, but that was not the case. At some point, his phone had lazily fallen from his hand onto the floor, and he had slipped into a hazy dream state.

Patton had tried calling for him from the kitchen, but had gotten no response. Which led to a very concerned Patton knocking at his door.

> “Vigil? I made breakfast, if you wanna come out”

No response.

Patton shrugs, and makes his way back to the kitchen, putting some scrambled eggs on a plate. He slides it over to Logan, bent over his coffee, eyes unfocused.

Logan generally isn’t a morning person, but at this point he’s at least reading a book or something.

This morning, however, Logan barely seems to register the plate next to him, mumbling a “thank you” before picking up a fork and gently prodding the eggs.

Just as Patton is about to say something, there’s rapid, thundering footsteps coming from the stairs.

> “Goooooood morning!” Roman exclaims
> 
> “Morning!” Patton cheerily responds, giving a little wave

And so the morning goes on. Roman completely takes over Patton’s attention, reciting stories of his latest adventure into the imagination.

Virgil... doesn’t come down for lunch. Or dinner. Okay, so maybe Patton is a little worried. He leaves out a pb&j sandwich on a plate in front of Virgil’s door, and yeah, that’s enough. If Virgil wants to be alone, to have the day off, that’s okay! Patton will just have to give him an extra big smile tomorrow.

* * *

Virgil is absently aware that he’s dreaming. That none of this is real. But it... it feels like it is.

First, he’s just floating. Not really in anything. But he’s there, he can see his body. He just can’t...move?

And as soon as he realizes this, he’s falling. And he can’t move. Can’t turn around, can’t reach out to grab anything.

He’s just falling.

And then he isn’t.

His back hits the ground, hard, and all the wind is blown from his chest in an instant.

A voice rings out

> “Feeling scared, Virgil?”

Virgil tries to call out, but he can’t find his voice.

> “Unheard?”

His limbs stay still as he feels a cool liquid slide under his body, rising up as he lies on the ground.

> “Powerless?”

The liquid reaches his nose, his mouth, and he is unable to stop himself from breathing it in.

He has the distinct impression of a smug smile in the back of his mind before he chokes, and his mind is flooded with only the thoughts of

BREATHE

AIR

AIR

AIR

before his vision goes dark.

* * *

It’s four am. The house is asleep. That is, until a heavy THUD comes from the room farthest down the hall.

Patton jolts awake, trying to identify the source of the sound.

> “Virgil...?” Patton whispers to himself.

Padding down the hallway, Patton stands in front of Virgil’s door.

> “Virgil? Are you awake?” Patton stage whispers.

Hearing no response, he tentatively twists the door handle and silently presses the door open.

Patton’s hands fly to his mouth as he looks inside.

* * *

Virgil flings himself awake, and falls off of his bed and onto the bedroom floor. He dully recognizes that he has hit his head against his nightstand.

However, his concern is quickly redirected as he feels cool liquid seeping through his clothes and fingers where they rest in the ground.

> “No, no no no nononono what the...” he trails off as he lifts himself off the ground, flinging himself onto his bed.

His breathing picks up, and his hands find his hair and start pulling, his fingers scraping his scalp. His heart is pounding in his ears, he thinks he’s talking, he can’t hear anything, what IS that, is he not awake, what’s happening, he- he can’t-

> “Virge?” A hand on his shoulder pulls him back, but he still can’t breathe, why can’t he breathe, oh god is it filling his lungs he can’t do that again-
> 
> “-irgil I need you to focus kiddo, come on, breathe with me, in four...”

Virgil shakily inhales, and follows Patton as best he can until his breathing evens out.

He opens his eyes, first looking at his lap, then over to Patton. His eyes go past him, focusing on his room.

It’s dark and dreary and... and it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

There’s nothing on the ground, or on his clothes for that matter.

And his gaze returns to Patton, who’s smiling shakily.

> “Hey kiddo” he says quietly, carefully.
> 
> “Hey” is Virgil’s gruff reply, but he guess Patton doesn’t mind, because his face lights up a little bit at Virgil’s voice.
> 
> “Are you...?”
> 
> “Yeah, I’m okay”
> 
> “Do you, uhm...” Patton trails off “do you wanna talk about it?”

Virgil flinches, and his face is indication enough of an answer.

> “Okay... do you want me to go downstairs? We can hang out on the couch, maybe watch tv until the others wake up?”

Virgil nods, and with Patton’s encouragement, slowly shifts and gets up.

They spend the next couple hours curled up, shoulders touching on the couch.

Patton eventually drifts off. Virgil, however, does not. He can’t shake the image of that smug, cold smile, and the chilling feeling as the liquid made its way into his lungs.


End file.
